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THE 



OPENING ADDEESS 



MARYLAND ASSOCIATION, 



FOR THE 



(Sucourngcmcnt of £itcratuvc anh tl)c ^rte, 



DELIVERED IN THE UlTTVERSITT EUILDINQS, 



On the 6lh of January, 1848. 



y 



BY REV. J. N. M'JILTON, 

PEESIDENT OF THE ASSOCIATION. 



5 BALTIMORE: 
PUBLISHED BY THE ASSOCIATION. 

JOHN W. WOODS, PRINTEK. 

1848. 






The Publishing Committee would respectfully ask of every one into whose hands 
this address may fall, an attentive and careful,perusal. It contains matter which may 
be new to such as have not thought much upon the subject, but which is of vital in- 
terest to the parties 'concerned. It is earnestly hoped, that sufficient interest may be 
awakened among the community, to put in active and energetic progress, the measures 
here suggested. 



Baltimore, January 17, 1S4S. 
Dear Sir : 

Having had the pleasure of hearing you deliver the first public Lecture oi 
the "Maryland Association, for the Encouragement of Literature and the Arts," we feel 
unwilling that a document embracing so many important truths, should be lost to society, 
and, therefore, respectfully solicit a copy for pubhcation. 

With assurances of our high regard, we are, yours, &c. 

SAMUEL HUNT, 
JOSEPH SIMMS, 
GEORGE W. KREBS, 
GEORGE ROGERS, 
G. S. GRIFFITH, 
W. T. THOMPSON, 
JOHN W, WOODS, 
A. T. WAUGH, 
G. W. MAGERS. 
Rev. J. N. M'Jilton, 

President of the Maryland Association, 

For the Encouragement of Literature and the Arts. 



•Baltimore, January IS, 1S4S. 
Gentlesien : 

In complying with the request of the "Ittaryland Association, for the 
Encouragement of Literature and the Arts," that I should driver the first public address 
of the Association, I had in view the important design it contemplates, which is union 
for the advancement of the various interests included in its orgaaization. It afl"ords me 
pleasure to learn that the address is approved by you, and that you believe its circula- 
tion in printed form will further subserve the great cause you have in hand. I send the 
manuscript, and express the hope, that you may be successful in your efibrt to unite the 
varied interests of the community in the erection of an Institution which will do honor 
to our patriotic city and state, and tell of your excellent enterprize to future ages. 

Respectfully, 

J. N. M'JILTON. 

To Messrs : 

SAMUEL HUNT. 
JOSEPH SIMMS, 
GEO. W. KREBS, 
GEO. ROGERS, 
G. S. GRIFFITH, 
W. T. THOMPSON, 
JOHN W. WOODS, 
A. T. WAUGH, 
GEO. W. MAGERS. 



ADDRESS. 



Fej-low Citizens, Ladies and Gentlemen : — 

I appear before you, this evening, as the organ of "The Mary- 
land Association for the Encouragement of Literature and the Arts." 
I am called upon to deliver the opening address, which I presume ia 
to be a sort of introductory to others which are to follow, and the 
short time allowed for preparation — a few days — crowded with other 
duties and engagements, must plead for its imperfections. As the 
Association contemplates the promotion ef Literature, in connection 
with every department of Philosophy, Science, and the Arts, in the 
introductory address I am restricted in the choice of a subject. It 
should set forth, as far as the same is -possible, the objects of the As- 
sociation. In view of this obligation, I will address you upon 

Man in his Social, Civil, and Associated Relations ; and 
THE Importance of Literature to him in each of these Re- 
lations. 

Man was designed by his Creator to occupy an important position 
under His authority, and to fulfil an important destiny. He was 
placed at the head of the living multitudes that inhabit the earth, 
and directed to exercise control over them. He was created out of 
physical substance that he might be known as the inhabitant of a 
physical world, and a spirit was given him that he might operate as 
thfe connecting Jink between the vast throngs of the material universe, 
and the inhabitants of celestial climes. He was endowed with intelli- 
gence for the performance of such duties, as might be assigned him 
in his place of honorable distinction, but a little lower than the angels 
who have their dwelling in a higher sphere. His physical form was 
fashioned from the dust of the ground, and he was made a living soul 
by the breath of the Almighty Creator, which was breathed into him. 
The association of material substance with the living principle 
and mental powers, is a mystery which man will probably never 
be able fully to fathom ; but the association itself is one of 
the plainest facts that the intellect takes knowledge of. Man 
knows that his body is composed of material substance, because he 
is sensible of its contact with other material things ; and he knows 
that he has intelligence, because he takes knowledge of the things 
around him. He knows that he is material substance, because he 
o 



6 

sees and feels, and hears ; and he knows that he is intelligent mind, 
because he perceives, and thinks, and reasons, and remembers. 

In his endowment of physical faculties, man finds himself in con- 
tact with the material world ; and the matter out of which he may 
mould the sources innumerable of happiness is spread around him in 
endless variety. It is in the forest ; on the mountain, and the 
plain, and in the valley ; it is in the rock, and the river ; in the air, and 
in the soil. The very means ordered for the sustenance of his sys- 
tem are frauoht with enjoyment. He is doomed to toil. In the 
sweat of his face is he sentenced to eat his bread. But the t6il to 
which he is doomed, is suited to his nature, and although there be 
much of pain, yet is there something of pleasure in its endurance. 
Although in the sweat of his face he eat his bread, yet is the morsel 
sweet to his taste and refreshing to his spirit. With the curse of 
Heaven that followed his transgression, there is mingled blessing; 
the wrath of his God that was threatened against his sin, is tempered 
with love and mercy. He may be happy in the pursuit of his ap- 
pointed labor. He may enjoy life in any employment ; in the opera- 
tions of commerce — at his trade — at the plough. 

But a higher degree of enjoyment does man obtain in the action of 
his intellectual powers. Tlnough the senses is his mind brought in 
close proximity with the materials of the physical world. He looks 
upon them, and feels them ; he perceives their properties and their 
uses, and reasons in regard to the disposal he shall make of them. 
In the survey of physical substances, the intelligent being draws in 
knowledge. He examines their quality ; studies their properties ; dis- 
covers their value. He changes their form ; adapts them to his pur- 
poses ; rejoices in the control he has over them. He cuts the rock 
from the mountain, and shapes it according to his will ; he piles it 
into a pyramid for the gratification of his ambition, or builds it into a 
dwelling for his comfort and convenience. He hews the forest from 
the place where it stood for centuries, and rears a city upon its site. 
On the spot where the tall oaks and elms bowed in majesty to the 
breeze, he has erected houses, and palaces, and temples. He has 
caused the low moan of the forest that was awakened by the sighing 
of the summer wind, to be exchanged for the mingled hum of human 
voices; he has made the roar of the wintry tempest through the trees, 
give place to the shouts of the rejoicing nmltitude. 

The works of Nature are the ministers of his pleasure ; the 
themes of his study ; the sources of his instruction and profit. 
He wanders over the fields, and through the forests, all covered 
with verdure, and teeming with animal life ; and he enjoys a high 
satisfaction in contemplating their excellence, their beauty, and 
their use. Through the media of sight and sound, the most delightful 
impressions are conveyed to his mind. He gazes on the beauty of 
the opening llower, and the upspringing grain ; the glory of the waving 
foliage, and the ripening fruit. He listens to the murmur of the- 
mountain rill, and the whisper of the summer breeze ; the voice of 
the chirping insect, and the music of the warbling birds. He yields 



to the excitement of pleasant emotions. His mind is filled with 
happy thought. His heart is moved by the joyous thrill. The intel- 
lectual man is gratified, the physical partakes of its emotion. But to 
gaze and listen are not enough for the being of intelligence. They 
might satisfy the animal, but not the intellectual powers. He would 
look into the substance of the things that give him pleasure to gaze 
on. He would know the principle of action by which the sounds are 
moved that fall so pleasantly upon his ear. He plucks the blade of 
grass, and the stock of grain ; he cuts the bough from the forest tree ; 
he studies their nature, and while he wonders how they grew, he 
learns how they may be applied to important and necessary uses. 
The grass and the grain he converts into food, the tree he appropriates 
to a thousand purposes. He meditates upon Nature's voices of melody, 
and the Philosophy of Sound and Science of Music are developed to 
his sense. He proceeds to the imitation of Nature, and the music 
of her wilds is echoed from innumerable instruments of his invention. 
Nor is the operation of man's intellectual powers confined to the 
sphere he inhabits, and over which he wanders in search of happi- 
ness. The illimitable space, which iione but He who is infinite can 
fully survey, *ls the wide theatre of his action. In thought he journeys 
from the world afar, 

"And treads the jewelled pavement of the skies." 

Among the stars that shine like gems in the broad canopy of night, 
he makes his way in the pursuit of his discoveries. He studies their 
nature and design. He satisfies himself that they are spheres of con- 
siderable magnitude, some of them, a thousand times larger than the 
one on which he treads. He ascertains' their composition and many 
of their peculiarities, and has reason to believe they are inhabited by 
living beings. He measures their distances from each other, and the 
extent of the orbits in which they move. He discovers that they are 
many in number, and operate in harmony with each other, and in 
obedience to fixed laws ; that they are associated in systems wheeling 
around their centres — a vast brotherhood of worlds, all kept in their 
places and in motion by some power which is to him inscrutable. He 
views the effect of that power, and although he cannot comprehend 
it, he can call it by a name that is suited to its character. He calls 
it gravitation, and the meaning of the term, though mysterious, is 
conveyed in its use. Thus, step by step, does man pursue his way, 
and wonders as he proceeds — wonders at every new development 
that Nature makes, and wonders most of all, that he should possess 
the faculty of acquiring such an immensity of knowledge. And here, 
arrested in his course, he bows in worship to a superior intelligence 
— the Intelligent Supreme that can so envelope His work in mystery, 
as to render it past finding out. He views Omniscience in the 
power that holds the glittering orbs of night in their places, and di- 
rects their movements. Thrown back upon himself, he stands awe- 
struck before the Divine Majesty, and proclaims the extent of his own 
intelligence in confessing the hand that moves the worlds of space 



8 

to be the hand of Him that made them. He shows his eminence of 
mental attainment in the admission that the power of gravitation is 
the mysterious power of God. 

The works of Nature afford a noble field for the exercise of man's 
intellectual powers ; and by those powers, that field is well occupied. 
With ceaseless and untiring energy, they continue to explore its vast 
extent, expanding and improving as they go. And yet the more they 
discover of its extended space, the more extended does that space 
appear ; and although, in their efforts, they gain the more of power 
perpetually, yet does their work of exploring its extent, perpetu- 
ally appear the less likely to be accomplished. To the sense of man, 
the boundless reahn of Nature, is a ring of immeasurable diameter, 
and the more he knows of its extent, the more are the means of his 
happiness multiplied, but the less does he hope that he shall ever be 
able to make the journey of her eternal cycle. She is a mystery of 
the Divine conception, and although God were able, in a moment of 
time, and from nothing, to create her in all the perfection of her beauty, 
yet may man expend ages in the effort to find her out, and then be as 
far from the object of his pursuit as when he first began it. So vast 
is God's creation — so capable of endless expansion ar% man's intel- 
lectual faculties. 

In his physical and intellectual natures, man is a mysteriously 
wrought and highly exalted being. But his character is incomplete 
without another set of faculties. He must possess a moral nature 
by which the physical and intellectual are to be kept in control. He 
was doubtless created with all his faculties in a state of perfection. 
God could not otherwise have created him. His work must always 
of necessity be perfect, and perfectly adapted to the position it is in- 
tended to occupy in the mighty scale of His creation. At his crea- 
tion man's faculties were unpolluted. They were pure, as well as per- 
fect. His moral nature was of sufficient force for the control and 
regulation of his physical and intellectual powers. In the exercise 
of his faculties, under such regulation, he was capable of the highest 
condition of human happiness, and that happiness was in its de- 
gree perfect. It was but a little lower than the happiness of the 
angels of Heaven, and only inferior to it in the difference between 
their nature and his. 

But in his fall, man lost the purity of his moral nature. lis power 
was prostrated by the blow of his fierce and determined foe ; it was 
crushed beneath the power of the spirit of evil. In the loss of the 
moral force which had controlled and regulated his movements, man 
was deprived of the agency that kept his faculties in subjection and 
preserved the equilibrium of their action. Evil, then, possessed the 
ascendant, and under its baneful influence, he abused the high pre- 
rogatives which the Almighty had placed in his hands. Hence result- 
ed the ills that are incident upon such abuse. As before his fall man 
was only capable of enjoying happiness, so after it he was only capa- 
cle of enduring its opposite — misery. The corrupt principle bearing 
rule, its natural product, misery was the portion of the fallen. But 



it was not the pleasure of the great Creator, that His creature of in- 
telligence should remain under the dominion of the spirit of evil, and 
subject to the unmitigated ills, he was compelled to endure under his 
control. He willed his release from his thraldom of woe, and effect- 
ed it by creating him anew in a moral and spiritual regeneration. In 
that new creation the faculties of its subject were recovered from their 
pollution, and he was restored to the purity and happiness he had lost. 
The moral force was restored, under certain conditions of obedience; 
restored, not of merit, nor by way of reward for any act of virtuous 
character, for such he was incapable of performing ; but as a free gift 
from Him who first gave him life. And now is man happy or misera- 
ble as he was at first, of his own election. According as he allows 
the moral force to prevail, and is obedient to God, he rejoices in the pos- 
session of good, and as he permits the evil to become dominant, so is he 
made unjiappy. This is the theory of man's relationship to God, which 
Revelation teaches. It is controverted by infidelity, which has construct- 
ed systems to oppose it. But, in a just comparison with it, the absurdity 
of those systems is readily discovered. It has the high merit of being 
consistent with the character of an all-wise and holy God, and hon- 
orable to man, which is more than can be said of any system invented 
by human philosophy. It is a theory which is full of mystery, and has 
to be accepted through the faith of the receiver, but it is effective in 
the accomplishment of the purpose for which it was designed, and con- 
sistent with itself, and that is more than can be said of any other. 
And it draws far less upon human credulity than any system of man's 
making. The system of the Bible is the only one for which a charac- 
ter of originality can be claimed. All others, though they oppose it, 
are indebted to itfor their existence. They are the counterfeits which 
prove its genuineness of character. It bears the stamp of holiness, 
while others give evidence of corruption. They are the perverters 
of its authority — the spoilers of its beauty. 

Such is man in his physical, intellectual and moral natures — the 
moral being necessary for the proper control of the others, 
and for the right performance of their several functions. In the 
possession of those natures, their subject is most happily adapt- 
ed to the social, civil and associated relations in which he was destined 
to operate. It was declared of him, in a very early period of his his- 
tory, that it was not good for him to be alone. This declaration 
was made by one who knew him well, and knew as well the condition 
of life that was suited to his character. This constitution suggests 
his civil connexions. They are the legitimate result of the elements 
of which that constitution is composed. His character shows the 
necessity of his associated pursuits. He could not be man without 
them. The opposite of these relations is solitude ; and in solitude 
is man, with all his powers, a useless thing. In solitude his faculties 
are prostrate, and he is not able to carry out the design of his creation. 
In solitude the elements of his being are dissociated. In solitude he 
dies — his race becomes extinct. 

In man, the social character is readily discovered. It is seen in the 



• 10 

operations of his compound nature ; in his search after society ; in 
his intellectual intercourse ; in the desires by which he is moved ; in 
his general action. The material man is known by his physical prop- 
erties ; the intellectual by his mental faculties, so is the social charac- 
ter discovered in the operation of the affections. It is clearly seen 
in the affection of love, which pervades the human bosom ; in the at- 
tachments of friendship, from which much of the happiness of society 
is derived ; in the desire which man feels to be happy, and to render 
Others so. The strength of the social character, is in the love which 
man has for his kind, and which, like the magnet directing the needle 
to the pole, causes him to seek his companionship. The cause is 
effective ; the result is produced ; the evidence is not to be mistaken. 

Truth is stamped upon the face of history's faithful record. Man 
was created asocial being. He was formed for association. He was 
created with capabilities for happy intercourse. The impression was 
made upon him by the Divine Hand. The great seal, under which the 
character is secured to him, is found in the intellect for which he is 
so eminently distinguished ; and the moral power which, in the use of 
that intellect, he is so capable of exerting. The social character is the 
fesult of the united action of those faculties, and in their proper 
organization, it is perfect. It falls below the standard of perfection, 
as they come short of that organization. Its operation is through the 
affections with which the Creator, in His wisdom, has been pleased to 
endow His creature. Unaided by his intellect, those affections would 
be low and grovelling, and uncontrolled by the moral faculties, they 
would render him any thing else than social. There is an instinct of 
affection possessed by some of the lower orders of the animal crea- 
tion; but that instinct, unimproved by the intellectual power, and un- 
controlled by the moral force, shows but little of the social character. 
And if we advance a degree above the lower orders of animal exist- 
ence, and take a view of man in his savage state, the social charac- 
ter will be found in very imperfect development. It is, indeed, there, 
and shows itself in some of its less important features, but it is bru- 
talised by the indulgence of passion, and its beauty is hidden un- 
der the propensities of the animal. A degree of intelligence is neces- 
sary to the existence of the social relations in such state as renders 
them desirable to man. And the higher that intelligence, the greater 
happiness must those relations afford. The savage lacks the intel- 
ligence, and the moral power, which should always be in alliance with 
it, and so far from being society for an enlightened circle, he is only 
less repulsive to it than the meaner animal that roams the forest with 
him. To enjoy the social relations, in their elevated rank, man must be 
enlightened and his moral force must preserve the balance between his 
animal passions and his intellectual faculties. 

I have said that the social character is the result of the united action 
of the intellectual and moral powers, and that it operates through the 
affections. Thus, it is seen in the domestic circle, and in the inter- 
course of friends. In the bosom of his family, does a man find the 
sources of exquisite enjoyment. The domestic circle, is a little social 



11 ' 

world, and in it are concentrated the chief interests of his life, so far 
as their connection with this sublunary state is concerned. His plea- 
sure is in the smiles of the little group of happy faces that cluster around 
his hearth-stone. And to produce those smiles, is the object that occu- 
pies a considerable proportion of his thoughts and labors. It is the 
object of his toil by day, and the theme of his study by night. And 
when successful in the accomplishment of his purpose, he feels that 
he is well repaid for all the pleasure cost him. And what sight 
can be of more real, heartfelt interest to the man of intelligence and 
moral propriety, than that of the devoted circle around the happy fire- 
side ? The hearth-stone about which they cluster is the throne of Love, 
and his reign is over subjects the most loyal and obedient. Their 
interests and their hopes are the same, and the happiness of one, is 
the happiness of the whole. Heart bound to heart, they cling to 
each other with fondest affection. They labor for each other's weal, 
and share each other's woes. The scene is most pleasant to contem- 
plate, and the attainment of its joy is worthy the ambition of the 
loftiest intellect. 

And this circle of pleasant interest, may be widened with but a 
slight attenuation of its joy. It may he extended so as to include a 
number of chosen friends, whose tempers, and dispositions, and gene- 
rous feelings, may incline them to the association for mutal benefits, 
and in search of mutual joys. In friendly union firmly bound, each 
yields a share of interest for the associated good ; and nothing is lost 
in the sacrifice, for each receives from the united stock, more than 
equivalent for the capital he has invested in it. In such a combination 
of honest, faithful hearts, man feels that "as iron sharpeneth iron, so 
doth the countenance of a man his friend." 

From the social character and its relations, arise the civil connec- 
tions in which men are associated. Time was when they were satis- 
fied to live in a nomadic state. Families were content to remain far 
distant from each other. They had no neighboring families near, with 
whom they might enjoy friendly communication. Such was, of neces- 
sity, their situation in the earlier periods of the world's history, when 
men were few, and their wants such as were suggested by the dictates 
of nature. In their nomadic state, the form of government, if it had any 
form, was monarchal, and the patriarch, or monarch, was invested with 
absolute control. The government was a despotism, limited in the 
extent of its operation, but most absolute in the authority of its head. 
The relationship that existed between the governed and the govern- 
ing was parental. But as men increased in number, they gradually 
forsook this manner of life, and united together for mutual benefit 
and defence. Neighboring families leagued for protection, and for 
the pursuit of gain. A chief patriarch was chosen, as the head of 
the compact. When a considerable number of families were united, 
they grew into a city, and erected a goverrlment for mutual safety. 
When cities were multiplied, they were erected into a kingdom, and 
a king was chosen, into whose hands the reigns of the government 
were placed. In some instances, by conquest, or by the acquisition of 



12 

of new territory in some other way, it was found necessary that several 
kingdoms should be associated together, when the empire was organ- 
ised, and the conqueror, or chief king, became the emperor. Such, 
as far as it proceeds, was the progress of society. The basis upon 
which it was founded was the social character. The influence of that 
character was extended as the population of the world increased. 
From the combination of families, the city sprung, and from the city, 
the kingdom and empire grew. And in this progress of society, the 
uses of Philosophy, Science and Art were developed, and their ser- 
vices applied in the production of whatever was deemed essential to 
man's comfort and happiness. In the process, the face of Nature 
was materially altered. Upon an island in the sea, the city was built, 
and the wilderness became a kingdom. The shores of the ocean were 
dotted over with marts for every kind of business, and cities, towns 
and villages thickly clustered in the vast interior. From city to city, 
and from kingdom to kingdom, public highways were thrown up, and 
the lands were checkered with passages for the emigrating multitudes. 
Thus, from the social character sprung the patriarchal rule, the or- 
ganized government, the kingdom and the empire. But that character 
was not always the most prosperous and the best conditioned under 
those forms of government. The king became an oppressor, and the 
emperor a tyrant. The social character was uneasy under their iron 
rule, and men revolted from their authority. Disgusted with the 
reign of tyranny, they associated for mutual aid in repelling it, and 
formed such government as allowed them to keep the reins of power 
in their own hands. Out of the discontent arose the Republic. The 
people, jealous of their rights and liberties, reserved to themselves the 
power of appointing the agents for the management of their govern- 
ment, and of limiting the period of their official relation. The Re- 
publics of ancient Greece, are memorable instances of this progress. 
But it was left for later years to erect the popular government best 
suited to the social character, and most productive of the ele- 
ments of human happiness. The raising of a Republic out of a few 
fragments broken off from the mightiest empire of modern times, in- 
spired men with such a love of freedom as they had never felt before. 
The American colonies, spread along the shores of the Atlantic, were 
far removed from the crown under which the colonists had complain- 
ed of oppression, and with no authority admitted to oppose their right 
to erect a government of their own, they felt as free as the ocean that 
rolled before them. With great activity, and energy, they labored 
for the common good, and their efforts were attended with the desir- 
ed prosperity. They broke the rod of the oppressor, and flourished 
as an independent people. The success of their government not 
only secured their own freedom, but it was the cause, also, of lighten- 
ing the burthen of their brethren of the kingdom they had left, and of 
the people of other kingdoms. Their prosperity and happiness begat 
the desire in those who slill bowed to the kingly rule, to taste the 
sweets of the liberty which they enjoyed. In the exhibition of that 
desire, the crowned rulers found cause for alarm, and to save their 



13 

sceptres, they consented to wear the honors of but little more than a 
nominal authority. In this advance of government, is seen the influ- 
ence and extension of the social character. It has been the means of 
widening considerably the circle of the social and civil relations, and 
it has given freer play to the powers that distinguish the rational 
being. If, in this progress, the moral faculties are kept in continuous 
improvement, and the moral force allowed to prevail, man will, doubt- 
less, be made wiser, and better, and happier, in the change of the 
monarchal government for the republic. 

From the social and civil relations, were produced those of an as- 
sociated character. Inhabiting cities, and operating in close con- 
nexion with each other, men found it important to their advancing 
interests to form themselves into different organizations for profit, and 
improvement. They invented trades and professions, and united in 
their pursuit. One who had means, clustered around him others who 
had not. He hired them to labor at his trade, and paid them their 
wages. Another, who had knowledge, became a teacher, and com- 
municated of his mental store to such as desired his instructions. 
Thus, has it been with the numerous associations that have been 
formed, for the great variety of purposes, and pursuits in which the 
multitudes are engaged. 

Such, briefly told, are the social, civil and associated relations that 
exist among men of enlightenment. Involved in those relations are 
man's physical properties, his mental and moral powers; and in pro- 
portion as they are elevated by the use and improvement of the intel- 
lectual faculties, an'd controlled by the moral force, so do they become 
the more actively efficient agencies in the improvement of society — 
so do they operate successfully in securing benefits to mankind. The 
propriety of associating Literature with these varied relations, and of 
encouraging its energetic action upon them, must he apparent to 
every reflecting mind. 



I now proceed to consider a second department of my subject — 
The Importance of Literature to man in his social, civil, 
and associated relations. 

The operation of Literature in the social circle, is of high in- 
terest, and importance. Its effect for good is plainly to be seen. 
If man's social character and habits fit him for society, how much 
will that society be improved by his presence, if he be well informed 
upon the subjects which engage the attention of its different mem- 
bers ? At the head of his family, the man is a patriarch — a ruler of 
the little social world that gathers at his hearth-stone. And how 
valuable must such a one be to the loved group around him, if he be 
capable of taking the lead in their literary pursuits, and directing them 
in the studies that are necessary for their improvement? His position 
is that of high importance, and by his exertions, the minds of the 
different members of his interesting charge, may be expanded, and 
3 



14 

their characters greatly improved. He is their instructor and guide, and 
every effort he puts forth for their advancement, not only renders them 
more interesting, and prepares them for more extended usefulness, 
but in addition to these, it brings out their affections towards him in 
evidences of increasing attachment ; it causes them to respect and 
love him more, and to be more anxious to make some suitable return 
for his fivors. And the satisfaction a man must enjoy, in witnessing 
the constantly improving faculties of his rising family, is not to be 
measured by words. He can feel it, and enjoy it, but it would be 
difficult for him to tell it. An intellectual family, thus trained, has 
resources of enjoyment unknown to the less informed. It has that 
within its circle which binds its various members together as none 
others may be bound. The sympathies of each are drawn forth, and 
so interwoven with those of the rest as to form a cord of the affec- 
tions, binding them to each other in that union of hearts which 
neither time nor distance can sever. In perpetually increasing at- 
tachments, the community of interest is strengthened which makes 
home the place of most attractive character, and removes the neces- 
sity of its being left by any of its inmates in search of pleasure. The 
pleasure is there. It is in the home resources, and it is of a higher 
and more endearing quality than may be generally found elsewhere. 
There is a magnet at the fireside, which draws the family circle to- 
gether, and operates like some power of enchantment, in the produc- 
tion of its happiness. 

Nor is the home circle of Literary pleasure to be deemed a pecu- 
liarity which belongs to certain favored classes of the community. It 
may be established in the home of the professional man, in the house 
of the mechanic, the farmer, the merchant. In each, it may be pro- 
portioned to the opportunities of the parties, and afford such mea- 
sures of enjoyment as they have the means of producing. While in 
the city, the resources may be more abundant in the supply of books, 
and other publications, in the country, the deficiency is made up in 
the themes for study, which are presented in the grandeur and beauty 
of Nature's works. 

There are few pursuits in which a man's time, and labor, and 
money may be more profitably expended than in having his children 
well informed. In their education he gives them that which is ten- 
fold better than money, and which will do them and their associates 
tenfold more service. In the gift of knowledge, he throws a safeguard 
around them, which may protect them from the dangers of mixed so- 
ciety, and prevent them from being ruined by any evil influence it 
may exert. In storing the young mind with information, and teach- 
ing the subject how to use it, the taste is improved, the reasoning 
powers sharpened, the judgment matured and strengthened; and it 
follows as a matter of course that he must be better provided for his 
contact with the world, than if he were sent into it, and ordered to 
■ act his part among its multitudes under other circumstances. No 
man tiiat has the ability of obtaining it should be without a well select- 
ed library for the supply of his children with reading matter. What 



15 

he lays out in books and other moans of instruction, may be saved 
to him by the prevention of other and less satisfactory expenditures. It 
is most generally the case that the mind obtains its desire for books, or 
aversion to them in its younger years. The boy is the man in miniature, 
and the index to the character that he is yet to be. In the maturing 
of his reading habits, is he made to shine among his associates; in 
their neglect is he lost amid the crowd, or known only in his nume- 
rical relation to the undistinguished mass. Alas ! how many a parent 
has followed his child with an aching heart through the avenues of 
ruin, when he might have made him an honor to his family, and to 
society, by encouraging his taste for Literature in his youth ? 

As with the family at the fireside, so is it with the more enlarged 
friendly circle. How is that circle valued — how is it treasured, if it 
be of a literary stamp ! It bears no comparison with other circles, 
which associate for the more common pleasures afforded in less en- 
lightened pursuits. The intercourse of the parties, has a fascination 
about it which attracts them together, and gives zest and character to 
all their movements. They are friends — friends in a sense unknown 
to the uninitiated multitudes, who wonder at their intimacy, and envy 
the means of happiness which they are known to possess. It is a 
man's manners or his sentiments, or both, that render him desirable 
to society. He is said to be attractive, or repulsive, as his manners 
are easy and pleasant, or otherwise, and as his sentiments are agreeable 
or disagreeable. In this consideration, how valuable is intellectual com- 
panionship? It is a refiner of the manners, a reformer of the opinions. 
It gives habits of ease and politeness, it improves the language, it af- 
fords freedom of speech. It aids in producing the practical know- 
ledge which is necessary for the adoption of sentiment. It enlightens 
error; it removes prejudice. It facilitates the impression of the right 
conviction. There is much of benefit in every way, to be derived 
from the association and frequent intercourse of intelligent persons ; 
and the pleasure obtained in their communion is fully equal to the in- 
tellectual profit it produces. 



In civil relations the intellectual character is indispensable. A man 
cannot discharge his common duties as a citizen, without enlighten- 
ment. There are obligations respecting the government, placed upon 
every man. No matter how obscure his situation may be, he is one 
of the mass of which the government is composed ; and with the 
mass, whether he appear or not, he is to bear his proportion of the 
burden it imposes. His character is a part of his country's property, 
and if that character be bad, he is an injury to his country, rather than 
a benefit. His example may, in some way, have its influence, and if 
that influence be for evil, it were better that he should not be seen nor 
known at all ; it were better if he did not exist. Every man is ex- 
pected, by the State, to do his duty, and the ignorant and worthless 
character can but contravene that duty in every word , and in every move- 



16 

ment. Better for the State that she should have no such subjects. They 
are an incubus upon her powers, and it is only because of their imbecili- 
ty, and relative insignificance, that they do not work her serious injury. 
These remarks apply to the citizen of any government ; but they 
have a more especial application to the people of our free American 
Republic. Our government is emphatically a government of the people. 
Every citizen can claim the right to choose his sentiments, and the privi- 
lege of expressing them. He can claim the right to express whatever 
opinions he pleases in relation to the policy of the government, and upon 
any measure presented for consideration to the popular mind. He can 
make his own selection among the candidates for public favor, and 
he can vote for whom he pleases. It is in his right of suffrage that 
his citizenship becomes more actively operative than in any privilege 
of thouo-ht or speech. In casting his vote, he does that which helps 
to o-ive virtue or vice a prominent position in the government. He 
does that which either ministers to the healthy action of our free sys- 
tem, or thrusts poison into it. These are high and important preroga- 
tives for the citizen to hold and exercise. They are such as the 
framers of government have generally been fearful of entrusting to the 
ffoverned. But the authors of our constitution of freedom, made 
the bold experiment. They believed there was virtue enough in 
their countrymen to restrain the lawless propensity, which man has in 
all ages given the proofs that he possesses. They appealed to the pat- 
riotic principle, which, when excited, will cause a man to suffer any 
privation, and to labor with unceasing diligence for the good of his 
country. It is that principle which aids the American citizen in his 
self control, and encourages him to yield a portion of his own for the 
prosperity of the government of which he is made to feel himself a 
part. Under this belief our forefathers framed our free Republic, and 
established our free Institutions. And to sustain that Republic and 
its Institutions, the subjects of their control, mus'f have sufficient in- 
telligence, partially at least, to understand them, and moral firmness to 
perform what they require. They must be able to exercise, to a certain 
extent, their reasoning faculties, and to form their opinions upon meas- 
ures of policy which may be proposed, and which the men who may 
apply for their sufirage intend to carry out. Acting unadvisedly, and ig- 
norantly, they risk their deares tinterests upon the hazard of an acci- 
dent. And such action is like that of a man who rushes headlong 
into the midst of a multitude, mixed of friends and foes, and deals his 
blows at random among them. If he strikes an enemy it is done by 
accident, and he is just as likely to strike the friend he loves, and 
would risk his life in protecting from harm. The efforts of such unin- 
formed citizens, instead of sustaining, may be disastrous to the In- 
stitutions of their country — instead of confirming and strengthening 
them, they may help to pull them down. The American citizen 
should be a man of intelligence, and of moral purity. He should be 
capable of judging of the measures that would secure the permanency 
of his government, and the happiness of his fellow citizens. And 
to the support of those measures he should contribute the full propor- 
tion of his talents and services. 



17 

As the intellectual character is important in the social and civil, 
so is it of high consideration in the associated relations. Men asso- 
ciate for the pursuits of business ; in their various professions ; for pur- 
poses of trade ; for mutual defence and protection ; for improvement in 
Literature and Science. The different pursuits of business, trades, 
and professions, are themselves associations, and the parlies engaged 
in them have a community of interest. That community of interest 
is felt and seen, although some of the parties, as individuals, may be 
the rivals of some other individuals. Such individual rivalship is not 
inconsistent with a common interest. The man that makes an im- 
provement in his profession, does benefit to his profession, as well as 
to himself, and sooner, or later, others must share in his improvement. 
The individual has property in his profession. It is a part of his cap- 
ital, and when he raises his profession by his services, he increases 
his own capital in common with that of his compeers. 

I speak of professional associations thus arranged, in contra- 
distinction to regularly organized societies for specific and stated 
purposes, such as the pursuit of Literature — the study of Science — 
the examination of certain phenomena in Philosophy, Sue. Asso- 
ciations of this sort are of great benefit, both to their indi- 
vidual members, and to the community. They minister to man's 
happiness and prosperity. Their influence is felt in the domes- 
tic circle ; in the intercourse of friends ; and in many of the re- 
lations of social and civil life. Men have arisen to great distinction 
in the State who were dependent for their start upon such associa- 
tions. In the contact of mind, produced by their operatiojis, the men- 
tal powers are drawn forth, expanded, and strengthened. New ideas 
are started, which may afterwards be elaborated in the study, and 
made to result in new inventions and improvements. In this pur- 
suit, the mind of the individual becomes common property, and the 
mind of the multitude the property of each individual. In the result, 
all the parties are profitted as individuals, and the community is bene- 
fitted and honored in the operation. Not the least beneficial feature 
in the arrangement is, that each of the operating parties in the asso- 
ciation is obliged to consult books to do credit to himself in the dis- 
charge of his duties. In the search of book knowledge, men obtain 
information. They become learned by study, and in contact with 
others, is their knowledge developed and .rendered of practical use. 
The student requires the sharpening process which is effected by con- 
tact with others, and by discussion. Without these, it is seldom that 
the man becomes practical, it is seldom that he learns how to use 
himself in the employment of his powers, either for his own benefit or 
the benefit of the community. He is like one who may expend his money 
in the purchase of an elegant set of mathematical instruments, or me- 
chanical tools, while he knows not how to use them. The cloistered 
student may become great in his study, but he will not be likely to 
appear so in the eyes of the world. He may become a man of letters, 
but one much inferior in mental power may eclipse him in an effort 
of discussion before a public audience. The merest smatterer, who 



18 

has confidence in himself^ may pass before the public for a man of 
ability, while the real student of modest and retiring character, may 
be cast into the shade by the boldness of his movement. Book know- 
ledge can only be useful when its possessor knows how to use it. 
Deficient in that practical point, knowledge equal to that of the seven 
wise men of Greece combined, would be of but little avail. Many 
persons possess knowledge, which they have not the power of im- 
parting to others, which they are incapable of using in any way pro- 
fitable to themselves ; and they appear before the world as though 
they had it not. The time employed in their studies is time almost 
entirely wasted. As far as their information is concerned, they are 
like men asleep, their energies are inactive, their motions are never 
productive. 

There is no doubt but that the great cause for complaint in these 
matters is in the systems of education in popular use. I say systems 
o? education, because the term is generally so applied, but not because 
I admit the appropriateness of the application. Systems of instruc- 
tion they may be, but the result shows that they have very little claim 
to the character of systems of education. To educate, may be their 
aim, but that happy end they seldom accomplish. The process of 
the schools, is for the master to instruct from books. And this duty 
may appear to be faithfully enough performed, but the mind of the 
student is crammed rather than expanded ; it is burthened M'ith a 
weight, under which it is crippled ; rather than taught to soar. The 
student should not only be taught to use his books, but he should be 
taught also to use the information he obtains from them. He should 
be instructed in the employment of his own powers. He should be 
drilled in the use of the knowledge he acquires ; and the drilling pro- 
cess should be performed while he is acquiring it. The substance of 
every lesson he studies should be made a part of his own mind, and the 
proof that is it so, should be required by the actual practice. What he 
learns, should be drawn from him in such manner as to make it his 
own communication. 

These errors of the schools are carried out in some form or other, 
in all the pursuits of practical life. In the acquirement of a profession, 
or trade, the prevailing custom is to study about one half of its duties 
and departments ; the consequence is, their subjects are about half 
prepared to conduct them, and it follows, as a matter of necessity, 
that without the intervention of some fortunate circumstance, they are 
about half successful in their pursuit. A considerable proportion of 
a man's youth is expended in what is called the acquirement of a pro- 
fession by means of which he is to push his fortunes in after years. 
He studies his profession, if study it may be called", so far as its prac- 
tical operation is concerned, and the thought seems never to occur to 
him, that there is any connexion, whatever, between his profession and 
Literature. In the Mechanical and Manufacturing professions, this 
is almost universally the practice. But few of those who labor at 
those professions ever imagine that they are in any way connected 
with letters, or that a study of their philosophy would be of advan 



19 

tage. And so long have these omissions been tolerated, and. encour- 
aged, that custom has established the law that Literature is one thing 
and trade another, and of different character. The general practice, 
suggests the admission that Labor and Literature are at eternal enmity 
with each other, and that the man who has to work, must of necessi- 
ty, be an uneducated— an ignorant man. There is no doubt but that 
the very opposite of this is true ; it is made so, not of right, but be- 
cause of the practice which admits the suggestion. It is not that the 
man who has to work, must of necessity be uneducated, and igno- 
rant, but that the uneducated and ignorant man is the one that has 
to work. And why is this the cause ? Simply because the want of 
a proper education limits the resources of the individual. It keeps 
him below the position to which the better educated aspire. 

In the present condition of the professions and trades, those who fol- 
low them have not the means and opportunities of properly using their 
capabilities They have not the chances of showing themselves to 
be men. What youth ever enters upon the study of a mechanical 
trade, with the knowledge that there is a Literature in connection 
with that trade, which is properly a part of it, and with the purpose 
of studying that Literature in connection with it } The trade is the 
object of his pursuit — the Literature he knows nothing about, and of 
course, he has no concern in regard to it. Such has been the custom 
of persons pursuing Mechanical trades for ages. And what is the 
result? It is, that the lad who learns his trade, or the part of it in 
which he is instructed, if he has any pretensions to the Literary charac- 
ter, he finds that to be more honorable, perhaps more profitable, and 
he leaves his trade and takes the Literature. His character, his influ- 
ence, his services — all are then lost to his profession — all are contribu- 
ted to the support of something which is supposed to be different 
from it, and in which he finds a better support for himself. But sup- 
pose the lad is not sufficiently learned, or has not the taste to pursue 
a Literary profession, does he remain a workman in connection with 
the profession he studied ? Such is very seldom the result. The 
better instructed individual, almost invariably turns from the labor of 
his trade and becomes an employer. And why does he seek the 
change .'' He seeks it because it is considered more honorable, and 
is, indeed, more profitable to be an employer than a workman. In 
such practice, pursued by such as are connected with the laboring 
professions, what can be said of the dignity of labor ? Nothing else 
but that it has none, or that it has too little to be complimentary to 
an intelligent mind. In this process, which is decidedly one of wrong, 
Literature raises a man above labor, rather than qualifies him for it. 
The right is, that the improvement of the intellect should prepare a 
a man for the discharge of his duties as a workman, and not make 
him something else. It is wrong that the labor of his youth should 
be lost in learning a profession, which, in his more enlightened years, he 
is not to follow. It is wrong that his profession should be deprived 
of the honor that his character would bring it, and of the services 
which the improvement of his talents would but render the more valua- 



20 

ble. The right is clear. His profession should be so elevated as to 
make it of sufficient interest to him, to pursue it in the advance of 
his intellectual power, when the pleasure and profit it would afford, 
would return the equivalent for his character and services. Litera- 
ture and Labor are not antipodes, as present practices would indicate, 
nor is there any reason why they should be so regarded. 

From these considerations, arises a highly interesting question. 
Is Labor absolutely degrading, and is there nothing in it that is at- 
tractive to the Literary mind.'' The answer to this question is of im- 
portance. It is of great consideration to the laboring man. It involves 
his intelligence — his position — his character — his honest purpose. I 
answer the question without a doubt as to the correctness of my posi- 
tion. It is impossible that there can be any thing absolutely degrad- 
ing in labor. It was imposed upon man by his Creator, and He could 
could impose nothing upon him that is of necessity degrading. The 
degradation of labor, was no part of the Creator's infliction. Had it 
been so, the farmer — the agriculturist would have been compelled to 
wear the deeper shades of the infamy, an assumption that no sensible 
man will allow. If there is degradation in labor, it is the work of man 
himself; it is the work of man in the prostitution of his own charac- 
ter. It is true, there are distinctions in the various classes of which 
human society is composed ; but those distinctions are not absolute. 
None but God could make such distinctions, and it were alto- 
gether inconsistent with His character of Justice. The distinctions 
of human society are not absolute but relative. They have grown out 
of fortuitous circumstances. The sentence that he should eat his 
bread by the sweat of his brow, was passed upon our forefather as the 
head of our race; and it is not to be referred to any particular class, but to 
his entire posterity. The working man is not appointed to his labor as an 
especial act of degradation, wrought for him alone. In his character 
as a man, he is as important in the estimation of his Creator as any 
other. The difference is occasioned by a variety of circumstances, 
which have arisen in the course of human history. The chief cause 
seems to be in the possession of knowledge, or the want of it. The 
man of intellectual attainment, occupies the higher place ; the man 
that has not that attainment, the lower. The most apparent cause of 
distinctions in society, is the possession of wealth. But it is readily 
seen, that it is not the wealth that of itself makes the difference, so 
much as the power to get it. And knowledge is that power, although 
it does not always appear so. 

In the relative distinctions that exist in human society, there is 
great wrong done to the workingman ; and he is himself a party in 
the commission of that wrong. He consents to his condition ; and in 
that consent is the condition fastened on him, and the wrong con- 
tinued. He endures the wrong without an effort to have it removed. 
He is indisposed to the labor — the mental labor that must be expended 
in effecting it. The remedy can be provided. But unfortunately it 
is a much easier task to suggest that remedy, than it is to apply it. 
Nothing can give the workingman his proper, permanent elevation, but 



21 

the removal of the indignity that rests upon his labor. And nothing 
can effect the permanent removal of that indignity but enlightenment. 
The working man must be enlightened in his profession, and for its 
pursuit ; and in the connexion of his enlightenment with his profession 
is his elevation to be effected. It cannot be that the various branches of 
Mechanical trade are of right restricted to the practical knowledge exhib- 
ited in the various kinds of labor, by which they are distinguished. Prop- 
erly belonging to every trade, there is an amount oi mental knowledge 
which may be termed its Literary Department. And that Literary 
Department is as much a property of the trade, as the labor itself. 
To give the trade its prominence, its Literary Department must be 
associated with its Labor, and the man must study and practice them 
together. With the manual department of his profession, the mechan- 
ic must study the theory and principles oi mechanics. These, togeth- 
er with its history, constitute the Literature of his profession. As 
with the Mechanic, so with the Manufacturer. In the study of his avo- 
cation, he must associate the peculiarity of its character and the laws by 
which it is regulated. These, with its history constitute the Literature 
of the Manufacturer's profession. Such an association of intelligence 
with labor, would invest it with its dignity, and render its performance 
a pleasure, rather than a task. A man can labor with some satisfac- 
tion when he is encouraged to it by a feeling of professional pride — 
when he knows that his exertions will secure him honorable distinction 
as well as pecuniary profit. The feeling of professional pride would 
be prompted by a proper understanding of his business ; the hon- 
orable distinction would be secured through his desire to excel. Were 
the mass of the working Mechanics and Manufacturers thoroughly 
read in their professions, and could they enjoy the pleasure that their 
constant observation of the perfect agreement of true theory with 
corresponding practice would produce, they would be likely to be 
satisfied with their position, and but few of them would covet the cares 
and responsibilities that weary and perplex their employers. Did time 
allow, it would be an easy task to show how the proposed enlightenment 
of the operator, and consequent elevation of his profession, would 
secure him a better remuneration for his services, and give him a 
position much nearer to that of his employer, than he can occupy 
under present arrangements. To produce such a result, from the 
present condition of society, men must take to their books. They 
must enter upon a course of regular, systematic study. They must 
associate for the promotion of intellectual effort. They must cease so 
much to gratify the animal, and endeavor more to be men. Nor should 
those who know, and feel their need of knowledge, wait until the mass is 
moved before they begin the effort. They should begin at once. What- 
ever opportunities they may have, should be put in early requisition, 
and improved to the extent of their ability. They should spend their 
time at home in study, and encourage the same among their rising 
families. Many wait for the moving of the multitude, in the hope 
that they shall be moved with it, and that the trouble of individual effort, 
will thereby be spared them. In this delay, is the disposition to pro- 
4 



22 

crastinate encouraged, and the work forever put off. The man that 
would arise to distinction must labor for it. He must earn it as he 
would his living in the process of his toil. 

While speaking of these deficiencies, on the part of the Mechanic 
and Manufacturer, in the pursuits of their professions, it may not be 
improper to offer a few remarks in reference to the operators in the 
Mercantile departments of trade, and to those engaged in the avoca- 
tion of the Farmer. Half the interest, and much of the benefit of 
these pursuits, are lost in the neglect of their Literary connexion. 
What Merchant's clerk is ever taught that there is an intellectual 
branch of his business, which he ought to seek in regular systematic 
study ? What Merchant's clerk is ever told that there is a theory be- 
longing to his practice, which is a department of his trade, in which 
he ought to be well informed ? There is a department of the Merchant's 
profession, which is of most difficult accomplishment, and in which, 
it is necessary that he should be well instructed. It is the study of 
human character, and the manner in which that character is to be dis- 
covered in the human countenance, and in the habits and actions of 
men. A properly educated Merchant, should be able to read the 
character of his customer, and some little of his history, in the features 
of his face, and in his movements. But who, among the Mercan- 
tile communities, ever make these matters the subjects of their exami- 
nation ; of their closest, severest study ? Who among those commu- 
nities ever think of them as a necessary part of their profession. The 
instructions which the Merchant gives his apprentice, are principally 
confined to the judgment he is to exercise in the purchase of his 
goods; the manner in which they should be folded and arranged 
upon the shelves, so as to show them to the best advantage, and not 
the least of his care is to teach him how to place his thumb at the 
end of the yard-stick that its width may not be developed to the pur- 
chaser's advantage. The knowledge contained in these instructions, 
may, indeed, be essential to the success of the apprentice in the ac- 
quisition of his profession ; but it is only a small proportion of what 
is necessary to be known to insure him the character of an accom- 
plished Merchant. The Mercantile profession, has more to do with 
books, than appears in its pursuit. It is closely allied to Literature, the 
distance at present interposed between them, to the contrary notwith- 
standing. The study of Lavater and other writers, on subjects develop- 
ing human character, should have an important place in its connexion. 
And what Merchant is there that puts the works of Lavater into the 
hands of his af)prentice, and tells him to use them faithfully in the 
study of men's characters as they are presented in their countenances 
and motions? Some year or two ago, I had an occasion for an inter- 
view with one of our most successful Merchants, in relation to a young 
man, who desired a recommendation to an extensive jobbing house 
in New York. In the course of the conversation, I remarked that a 
good salesman should know to whom to trust his goods, as well as 
how to sell them. "Yes," said he, "he must be able to read a man 
through by looking at him. He must see clean through him at a 



23 

glance." "When I want a salesman," he continued, with some warmth, 
and considerable gesture, "I want a man that I can send out to make 
acquaintances in the southern and western states; and his business is 
to find out who may be trusted, and who may not. He must be able 
to tell his man by a look, and to learn the standing of all the dealers 
in a town by conversing with one or two of its inhabitants, and he 
must manage his conversation so adroitly as not to let his informants 
know that he is seeking information." According to that Merchant's 
idea, a good salesman must be a man of great sagacity, and possess 
high mental attainments. A difficult study is that of the Merchant, 
and it is much more scientific in its nature than may be indicated in 
the measuring of muslin, and the keeping of a handsome leger. 

In the mere glance at the Mercantile profession, here given, is 
shown its deficiency of Literary connexion. The same is true of the 
avocation of the Farmer. There is more in that avocation, than the 
tilling of the soil, and the gathering of its productions. He is but a 
poor Farmer, who spends his years in ploughing, and planting, and 
reaping in the fruits of his farm, while he omits the various points of 
intellectual importance, the study of which he should pursue in connex- 
ion with his manual labor. He that tills the ground, should know some- 
thing of its composition. He should be able to examine the various 
soils. He should know their chemical properties, the sort of manure 
suited to each, and the quantities required. He should know what 
sort of production any soil is adapted, and how much he can bring 
out of it without forcing it to too great an extent. These, and hun- 
dreds of other matters, belonging to the farm, are subjects of, scien- 
tific study. They are subjects of such practical interest, and so read- 
ily applied, that their pursuit could not fail to afford great satisfac- 
tion and enjoyment to the Farmer. They would increase his wealth 
by the improvement of his land, and by enabling him to preserve its 
value in perpetuity. In the pursuit and practical application of such 
study, the necessity would be prevented of exhausting the land by 
tillage, and turning it out as unfit for use. Thousands of acres are 
now lying fenceless, and waste, and their dwellings, once famed for 
strength and beauty, are in a state of decay, when they might have 
been preserved as profitable farms, and comfortable and happy homes. 
If their earlier owners, had studied Agriculture as a science, and ap- 
plied their knowledge to practical use, their descendants might now 
be happy in the possession of many a valuable patrimony. 

Of the value of scientific knowledge, in the pursuit of Agriculture, 
I have had practical proof. A friend of mine, living in Balti- 
more county, cultivates his land, principally, in accordance with the 
chemical properties of the soil. His analysis of several fields, has 
enabled him to apply his manure properly, and he has thereby greatly 
improved the quality of his land. His farm is now intrinsically worth 
one-third more than it was five years ago. Last summer, while on a 
visit to a large farm on the Eastern Shore of this state, I was the wit- 
ness of a process in Agriculture, of which I had before read in works 
upon the subject. Walking out one morning with my friend, the in- 



24 

telUgent and enterprising owner of the farm, I was attracted by a square 
ditch which was cut on the edge of a large swamp. Remembering 
what I had read of the value of swamp soil, as manure, I asked him if he 
had discovered a gold mine, alluding to the worth of the material he had 
been digging from the ditch. His reply was that he had indeed dis- 
covered a mine that, although it had been disregarded by his ancestors 
for a century or more, was as valuable to him, as if its production 
were gold. He said he had learned in the course of his Agricultural 
studies, which he had some time pursued systematically, and for 
practical purposes, that the properties of first quality manure, 
were contained in the swamp, which had long been a source of regret 
to him, as it occupied one of the finest and most beautiful portions 
of his farm. He made the experiment of its use, and found that it 
acted like a charm upon his fields. After a variety of enthusiastic 
comments upon the material of the swamp, he remarked that he had 
rather part with half his farm, which consisted of about a thousand 
acres, than the corner that was covered by that swamp. Both the 
gentlemen, here alluded to, have well selected libraries, and are in 
the receipt of periodicals, which treat of Agricultural subjects. They 
regard their books equally with their ploughs and harrows, as the neces- 
sary implements of their profession. 



It is in relation to the intellectual character, of which I have spo- 
ken, that the professions which men follow are divided into two sep- 
arate and distinct classes. The first of these classes, is called the 
learned, the other the unlearned professions. The learned professions, 
are distinguished from the unlearned, by their Literary connexion, 
having their Literature in constant practical use. The learned pro- 
fessions are Divinity, Law and Medicine: added to these should be 
the profession of the Teacher, which is no less important and neces- 
sary than either of the others. These are learned professions, because 
men are required to be learned in order to pursue them. They are 
Literary in their nature, and require a process of study to be acquired 
and practiced. It is indeed, true, that not all men in the learned pro- 
fessions, are themselves learned. Not a few are illiterate, aye, even 
ignorant, that assume to hold position in them. But this does not 
alter the character of the professions. There may many an ass appear in 
the skin of the hon, but the lion's character is not affected for the 
worse by the assumption. It is right, and proper enough, that those 
professions should be called learned, but it is not right and proper 
that the distinguished title, should indicate, as it certainly does, that 
other professions are unlearned, or to use a plainer and more signifi- 
cant term, ignorant professions. Literature ought not to be, and in 
reality, is not the property of any class, or classes exclusively. Like 
Eeligion, of which it is the handmaid, it should be universal in its use, 
and in the practice of its elevating properties. Literature arises from 
the use and opeiation of mental power, and it should have its due 



25 

connexion with the employment of every physical property of man, 
and with every department of his studies and labors. There is learn- 
ing for all professions, and as it is sought after, and allowed to ope- 
rate, so do those professions flourish, and their followers become emi- 
nent ; and as it is neglected and despised, so do they languish and 
become enfeebled, and their followers remain in obscurity. 

The students of the learned professions, are obliged to get their 
knowledge from books, which they have to study for the purpose. 
But such is the illiterate condition of some of the other professions, 
that they have no books in which they may be studied as regularly 
organised pursuits. The lad who is intended for the pursuit of Di- 
vinity, or Law, or Medicine, or Teaching, is encouraged to the con- 
stant use of such works upon either subject, as will prepare him for 
the discharge of its duties. But it is seldom that scholastic studies are 
taken into the account with one who maybe designed for a Manufactur- 
ing, Mechanical, Mercantile or Agricultural pursuit. If he is educated 
at all, it is in a general way, and without reference to his trade. His 
education, if he has any, is obtained during his earlier years at the school, 
and when he is taken from it and placed under the direction of a 
master, he lays aside his books as if they were to be of no further use 
to him. He ceases his studies as if they had nothing to do with the 
vocation, to which the years of his maturity are to be devoted. A 
strange anomaly, are the Indentures of a legally l^ound apprentice — 
not strange perhaps to the law, but certainly so to common sense. 
They require that the apprentice shall be learned in the "Art and 
Mystery" of his trade. If the term, "Art and Mystery," which the 
law uses, has any common sense meaning, it must be, that the lad shall 
learn all that appertains to his trade — its theory and its practice. It must 
include its intellectual, as well as its physical departments. And yet, 
the same Indentures demand, that the apprentice shall be instructed 
in arithmetic as far as the "Rule of Three." The "Art and Mystery" 
of arithmetic, as far as the "Rule of Three," is made to correspond with 
the "Art and Mystery" of his trade. And a sorry trade it must be, 
that is honored by such a knowledge of numbers. Instructing a lad 
until he can state a sum in Pike or Jess, and work it, and teaching him 
a certain process in manual labor, must be far from giving him the 
"Art and Mystery" of any trade. The operation demanded by the 
Indentures would afford amusement, if the subject were not of too 
serious a nature to be trifled with. The master shows his apprentice 
how to prepare his w^ork, and put it together, but he tells him of no 
mental process, by which he is to be improved, and with which his 
trade is associated. The schoolmastel: has performed his duty, by 
rattaning the arithmetic into him as far as the "Rule of Three;" but 
he has not taught him any connexion between that important study, 
and the "Art and Mystery" of his trade. Surely a greater absurdity, 
was hardly ever tolerated by man, than that which appears in the cus- 
tom of teaching a lad to be a Carpenter, or a Machinist, by showing 
him how to work with his hands, and teaching him to cypher through 
compound division. Mental improvement is not included in the con- 



26 

sideration, and the reading of the boy, if he reads at all, instead of 
having reference to the business, by which his fortune is to be secur- 
ed, is confined to the latest novels, or such books of better stamp as 
he may obtain at the Apprentices' Library if there happens to be one 
near. And, if by accident, in his search after books, the lad is led 
into the regular study of some science, or profession different from 
his own, he reads himself out of the trade of his choice, and away 
from his master, and learns the "Art and Mystery" of some other 
pursuit. Once on the track, he is not to be arrested by the "puzzle" 
of the "Rule of Three," but dashes on and becomes eminent in spite 
of the unfavorable circumstances that cluster around his entrance 
into responsible life. 

It is the removal of the Literary feature from the different trades, 
that has deprived them of the "dignity of labor," and reduced them 
to their present position. They are certainly below their level, 
and must remain so while they are encumbered with the oppressive 
conventional regulations under which they are now struggling. To 
give the Mechanical, and Manufacturing, and I may include the Mer- 
cantile, and Agricultural vocations their proper prominence, the his- 
tory of each should be written, and its text books should be prepared. 
Its Science, and all its departments should be represented, and its 
students should have as fair an opportunity afforded them of being 
thoroughly instructed, as are possessed by the stddents of the learned 
professions. When these are done, the Mechanic Arts may flourish, 
and the workman take a higher stand in society than he can ever reach 
by the system he is compelled to pursue under the arrangements that 
now prevail. To many who are accustomed to the present state of 
affairs, and satisfied with it, the association of Literature with Labor 
in the manner proposed, may appear fanciful ; to such the elevation 
of the working trades to a position, in any wise approximating the 
learned professions, may seem impracticable. But the thing is fanciful 
only to those who have not duly considered it. In itself it is not im- 
practicable. It can — it may be accomplished. The difliiculty lies in 
the indifference of the parties that ought to be most interested and 
active in the effort to effect it. Those parties are indisposed to the 
mental exertion required in producing the desired change. They act 
as though they preferred to complain, and yet endure the wrongs they 
complain of, rather than apply themselves to the labor which is neces- 
sary to their removal. 

The reformation of the faults under notice, must of necessity be the 
work of time. It is a thorough change of habit that is to be wrought; 
the uprooting of long established custom ; and the implanting of better 
pursuit upon a better basis. But no impossibility impedes the re- 
formation. If the necessary labor be applied, time will work for it 
the desired success. The progress may be slow, but persevering in- 
dustry will reveal the triumphant issue. Mind may have its conquest. 
The intellectual power may pervade every class of the con)munity, 
and regulated by the moral force, its reign must be for the elevation 
of man's character, and the extension and increase of human happi- 



27 

ness. The object is a noble one. It is worthy the consideration of 
the loftiest intellect, and the associated eflorts of the men of every 
profession and trade. If carried into execution all ranks and classes 
must share in the benefits of improved character, and they may rejoice 
in the prospect it may produce of greatly increased prosperity. In 
the accomplishment of the object, the Maryland Association may 
be an efficient agent. It will certainly be so if men of high intelli- 
gence, and practical character, unite in the pursuit. The combined 
talent of our city, and state, might be erected into a lever capable of 
overturning the mountain of difficulty that now stands in its way, and 
upon its ruin there might arise a monument of prouder structure than 
that which tells of the hero's prowess, and of the statesman's fame — • 
a monument of mind, encircled by a wreath of artistic beauty, and 
bearing upon its summit the statute of moral greatness. 

In the union of intellectual effort with the different departments of 
industrial pursuit, the character of those engaged in them must, of 
necessity, be improved, and the resources of their happiness must, as 
necessarily, be multiplied. The capability to labor with the hands in 
works of Art is a distinguishing peculiarity of man. The power to la- 
bor in works of intellectual worth, is a gift of much higher excellence. 
And the combination of these distinguishing properties in the power 
to labor with both mind and hands, is a faculty of the highest distinc- 
tion of which man is capable. And this ennobling faculty, by the 
gift of God, is made the possession of his favored creature. He is 
formed for its exercise and may attain to a high state of happiness in 
its employment. Nor is the exalted dowry intended as a privileged 
distinction. It is confined to no especially favored rank or class of 
individuals. It is the general property of man, although it does not 
show itself with equal excellence in all. Every one possesses it in 
such degree as is adapted to his peculiar constitution, and every one 
may use it, and improve it as his taste and disposition may incline him, 
and arise to distinguished eminence through its agency. Nature is 
prolific in the furnishment of material, and man may make use of that 
material in the pursuit of every variety of occupation. She supplies 
the phenomena, the facts and the physical substances, and these may 
be arranged into theories, or moulded into such forms as render them 
available in offices of intellectual and manual engagement. The pro- 
vision is made in wisdom, that men's tastes and dispositions should 
be diversified to suit the various circumstances that surround them, 
and that they should be inclined to the use of the differing substances, 
out of which they draw alike their knowledge and the necessaries 
that sustain them. 

The Philosopher takes knowledge of the movements of Nature. He 
looks into her boundless laboratory, and discovers the workings of her 
mysterious agencies ; which are never still — which never weary, nor 
wait to rest, but perform their varied functions in unceasing toil. In 
the exercise of his own wonderful faculties, he traces her machinery, 
and measures her motions. He studies her varieties of substance and 
operation in all their infinitude of forms, and changes. He looks 



28 

upon the worlds and systems that are suspended in the immensity of 
space. He observes their magnitudes and their movements, and 
from the mighty survey, he descends the scale of study, until with 
microscopic vision he turns to the atomic particles of which all matter 
is composed. He inspects the granule of unorganized substance, and 
learns the quality and motions of the machinulae of the finest living 
fibre. He makes the record of his discoveries for the use of man, and 
to encourage him to the imitation of Nature in the perpetual applica- 
tion of his powers to important and useful purposes. What the Philo- 
sopher records, the manof Science makes his property. He takes up 
the wondrous detail and measures it off for practical design. He con- 
sults principles and develops appointed laws. He determines the 
fitness of things and delivers his labors to the man of Artistic skill, 
who applies them in all their multiform variety to actual use. By 
their aid, he moulds and fashions the material substances which Nature 
furnishes into an infinity of forms, adapted to an infinity of purposes. 
They serve the operators in wood, and stone, and metals, and colors, 
and the men who plough the soil and the sea. They serve the painter 
when he paints the landscape upon the canvass or traces the living 
lineaments of the human face divine. They serve the engraver when 
he marks upon the plate of steel the tracery of Nature's hand upon 
her choicest works. They serve the sculptor, when he cuts from the 
rock the human figure, which comes from his hand so exquisitely chis- 
elled, and so like the living thing he imitates, that it only needs the 
life to make it speak and love him. 

Of such deeds of power and importance is man capable, when the 
proud faculties he possesses are brought into active exercise. When 
he is himself — when he operates to the extent of his ability, he can do 
things that are marvellous even to himself It is in such works that 
he shows his power; and in them he finds alike his improvement and 
his prosperity. ' They speak of him, and tell of his might. They 
speak to him and proclaim the sources of his enjoyment. When he 
performs those works, he answers the end of his being, and is happy. 
When he omits them, he fails of duty, and, if in that failure of duty, 
he is miserable, he must lay it to the charge of his neglect. The 
means of happiness are his, abundantly supplied, and he has the power 
to use them; and if he turns idly from them, and allows them to re- 
main untouched around him, it is of his own deed that he is 
unhappy. 

As a link in the great scale of creation, man is governed by those 
fixed and determined laws, which the Creator has appointed for the 
obedience of his creatures. Those laws are suited to the peculiarities 
of the respective departments of Creation in which they are intended 
to operate. The physical creation kas its laws, and there are laws of 
animal life, and laws for the being of intellectual and moral faculties. 
The objects of the physical creation, answer the end for which they 
were designed, when they retain their character, and preserve the 
harmony and order in their movements for which they were so re- 
markable when they were first set in motion. The organs of animal 



29 

life perform the functions assigned them, when they continue then- 
healthy action, and sustain and strengthen the animal for the perform- 
ance of his appointed uses. And man fulfils the design of his crea- 
tion when the faculties with which he is endowed are employed in 
the discharge of their intended duties. He falls short of the requisi- 
tion, when any of his powers are unemployed, or prostituted to other 
purposes than those for which they were formed. They were given 
him for active exercise in the performance of determined offices, and 
they must become enfeebled and fail when they are suffered to remain 
inactive. They must operate for their own infirmity and decay when 
they are occupied in irrelevant employment. If his organs of animal 
life fail, man knows that he must of necessity die ; and he can expect 
no return of benefit — no happiness in the possession of his mental and 
moral faculties, unless he keep them in active exercise. If he does 
not use those faculties, he is not obedient to the laws of his being, 
and he must endure whatever loss his disobedience may bring upon 
him. In the impairment of the highest functions of his oeconomy, he 
falls below his level; and in a position and pursuits unworthy of his 
name and character, must he pass the brief period of his allotted life 
upon earth, and reap the bitter fruits of his folly in the endless life 
that is to be hereafter. But if he obey the laws of his oeconomy, per- 
forming the duties assigned him in the proper employment of his 
powers, he shall cause their expansion and improvement in the 
course of which their capacities for enjoyment shall be correspondingly 
increased; and this expansion of his powers and consequent increase 
of his happiness must move perpetually onward. His improvement 
is without limit — his increase of pleasure unbounded. Eternity is his 
heirdom of unchanging felicity, where his soul shall rest in the bosom 
of its God, and his mind, ever expanding, must have its faculties ever 
filled with the fulness of joy. 

It is in these considerations of highest interest and importance, 
that man learns what he is, what is the design of his existence, and 
what the destiny to which he is appointed. In them he discovers his 
proper sphere of action, the duties he is expected to fulfil, and the re- 
ward that awaits him after their faithful performance. In them he has 
incentives for the employment of his mental faculties to the utmost 
reach of their capacity, under the control of his moral powers. They 
teach him that these faculties are to have their free exercise, and to be 
allowed their full play in all the pursuits in which he engages ; that in 
their abuse and impairment, by improprieties, and excesses, he is 
rendered wretched; in the neglect of their improvement he loses 
much of the enjoyment that he would otherwise possess; and in their 
proper application and expansion, by use, his means of happiness are 
ever increasing during the present life, and he secures a funded treasure, 
in the realization of which he must be happy forever in the life 
hereafter. 



30 

It is expected, before I conclude this address, that I shall say some- 
thing in relation to the plans and purposes of "The Maryland Asso- 
ciation FOR THE Encouragement of Literature and the Arts." 
I copy from the constitution the second article which sets forth fully 
the objects of the Association. These objects are the encouragement 
of Literature Manufactures, the Mechanic and other Useful Arts, in- 
cluding Agriculture and its kindred pursuits, and the Fine Arts. 
The objects thus stated, are to be carried out upon the following plan 
of operations : 

I. "By the establishment of Popular Lectures and the preparing and 
reading of such Papers and Reports as may be interesting and 
profitable. 

IL "By the formation of such Schools as may be desirable, and the 
Publication of Books, Pamphlets and Reports. 

in. "By the establishment of a general Museum and Formation of 
Cabinets of Models, Minerals, Natural History, Chemical and Ana- 
tomical Preparations, and a Library. 

IV. "By holding Exhibitions and Fairs. 

V. "By the examination of New Inventions and Discoveries and 
reporting upon their merits. 

VI. "By awarding Premiums and Certificates to important and 
meritorious objects, and by any other means that may be advisable." 

It will be seen by this extract from the Constitution, that one great 
purpose of the Association is the erection of a large and well arranged 
building, in which its principal operations will be centred. I may 
speak of this building as the great centre, and rallying point of the 
Institution, around which its interests will be clustered, and from which 
its eflx)rts for usefulness will be radiated. It is intended that this 
building shall be kept open at all times for the reception of visitors. 
It is to be divided into numerous halls, and apartments, for the accom- 
modation of the Library, Museum, and various Cabinets. It is designed 
that the Library shall be kept open during the day and until 10 o'clock 
at night, so that visitors may be admitted at such hours as may suit 
their convenience. The Books will be loaned out to the members of 
the Association, and to persons who are not members, at moderate 
charges. The youth of the city, and especially apprentices, will be 
allowed the use of the Library, and every encouragement and facility 
will be afforded to aid them in their efforts for improvement. The 
failure of several efforts in years past to establish an Apprentices' Li- 
brary, shows the necessity of an Institution of such extensive character 
and so identified with the city's interests, as to render its permanence 
a matter of undoubted certainty. 

The Museum will consist principally of curiosities in the various 
departments of Nature and Art — the production of our own and other 
countries ; Of Cabinets consisting of Models in the Mechanic Arts ; 
Minerals of our own and foreign lands; Specimens of Natural His- 
tory from all parts of the world ; Chemical Preparations from our own 
Laboratories, and from those of other cities ; Preparations in human 
and comparative Anatomy. The establishment of such a Museum 



31 

must be of great interest to our city in the facilities it will afford the 
student for the acquirement of knowledge, and in the gratification and 
instruction of our citizens. 

The Lectures of the Association will be upon every variety of sub- 
ject that may be entertaining and instructive to the public mind, in 
Literature, Philosophy, Science, and the Arts. Regular courses will 
probably be delivered on the Practical Sciences, and the Mechanic, and 
Fine Arts, and such instruction afforded in those studies, as shall 
render them of efficient service to the community. A movement will 
doubtless be made towards the accomplishment of the great object 
proposed in this address of associating the pursuit of Literature with 
the different Mechanical, and other trades and employments. 

The Exhibitions and Fairs are to be of general character, embracing 
specimens of every branch of human industry. Premiums and Cer- 
tificates will be given for improvements and New Discoveries, in the 
Mechanic and other useful Arts ; in Agriculture ; Horticulture, &c. 
The design of these Public Exhibitions, is to bring together the best 
examples of skill that may be produced, and to show them to the 
people, so that a general knowledge may be spread of matters in which 
all are interested, but for the want of some such opportunities, but 
few obtain. In the interchange of commodities, as well as in the new 
ideas which must be started by an examination of each other's inven- 
tions, and productions, the exhibitors must receive considerable 
benefit. 

In the arrangements of the Institution, the handiwork of the Ladies 
shall have due prominence, and every opportunity will be afforded 
them of exhibiting the evidences of the ingenuity and industry for 
which they are so eminently distinguished.. 

Committees will be constituted by the Association for the examina- 
tion of sucfrNew Inventions and Discoveries, as may be presented 
for their inspection. Upon their decision, the Premiums and Certifi- 
cates may be awarded to such meritorious objects as may be by them 
approved. 

The schools referred to in the constitution, are such as maybe es- 
tablished upon improved systems, more especially for instruction in 
Mechanical and Agricultural pursuits. The Publications of the As- 
sociation will be such as have reference to the peculiarities of its de- 
signs, or such as may be of general interest, and useful character. 
This imperfect detail shows that the objects of the Association are of 
very extensive range. Viewed in their extent they appear formidable. 
But it is not designed that all its machinery shall be put in motion at 
once. It is to be progressive in the development of its parts. Its 
advance is to be step by step, as circumstances may suggest, and 
its increasing means allow. 

To erect such a building as is contemplated, and establish the dif- 
ferent departments of the Association, will require a considerable 
amount of means, and in order to secure the same, it will be neces- 
sary that the concentrated efforts of the citizens of our city and of the 
state, as far as practicable, should be secured. If gentlemen of all 



32 

the professions and trades, will unite in prosecuting the objects of the 
Association, they will certainly be carried out. There is character 
enounrh among us to insure success to the enterprize, and we have 
ample means for its accomplishment. < By a union of effort, and a 
steadily onward purpose, every difficulty must be overcome, and the 
Institution effectually and permanently established. We have long 
needed such an Institution as will bind together the various interests 
of the community, and insure the co-operation of all its members in a 
great effort for intellectual advancement, and the promotion of each 
other's prosperity and happiness. None other than a general society 
can accomplish the object. Sectional efforts have been tried in past 
years, and some of the professions have labored for the establishment 
of Institutions for the carrying out of their peculiar designs, and the 
advancement of their peculiar interests ; and although nothing of a 
very extensive character has been attempted, yet the parties have not 
succeeded, even in their limited plans. Scarcely a sign remains of 
the means and labors that have been expended, and but for the 
memories of those who have shared in the repeated disappointments 
which their failures have occasioned, oblivion would cover their de- 
feated designs. Nor is the failure of such efforts any thing more than 
may be reasonably expected. Instead of union in a cause of general 
interest in the success of which the interests of the united parties will 
be secured, such movement is division for the support of sectional pecu- 
liarities. And from the support of sectional peculiarities, it is clear 
that no Institution of extensive character, and for the advancement of 
the general good, can arise. Instead of a combination of effort and 
energy, for vigorous action in a great enterprize, such movement is 
isolation — it is the segregation of the interests in which the power re- 
sides, and the consequent diminution of that power and removal of its 
efficiency. The withdrawal of a separate interest from the object in- 
tended, is like cutting an artery that supplies a limb of the human sys- 
tem with the blood, upon which it is dependent for its healthy existence. 
Deprived of its principle of life, the limb must decline, it must perish. 
To be healthy in its action, and perform its destined functions, the 
limb must be in connexion with the general system; it must receive 
its nutriment from the heart, the great centre of its living principle. 
The application of this figure, will show the necessity of an Institu- 
tion of a general character for the accomplishment of any general, 
and extended purpose. It is plain that the plan upon which to raise 
such an Institution is not to set off any portion of the community in 
an isolated effort, when the united exertions of all its portions will not 
more than effect the contemplated object. But erect an Institution 
around which all the parties may cluster, an Institution with a com- 
mon centre of attraction — a heart from which the life-power may be 
sent forth, and it will have the circumstances on its side for a healthy 
and prosperous existence. It may be subject to the common calami- 
ties which befal all human things, but the probabilities of successful 
advancement, will be in its favor. From a common heart, the life 
power may be transmitted (hroughf)ut all the departments of such a 



33 

general Institution. By that power, those departments may be nour- 
ished and invigorated, and it may return in accumulated quantity and 
with additional strength to the centre from which it arose ; and with 
tlie accumulated quantity and increased strength, it may be again sent 
forth, like the blood of the human system, for further action and im- 
provement among its various members. Thus, in a perpetual increase 
and application of power will a general organization perform its varied 
functions, and while its healthy action continues, it must continue to 
increase, and be rendered more and more efficient in the performance 
of the purposes of usefulness in which it was designed. 

The effort of the Maryland Association is the first, of so general a 
character, that has been made in the State of Maryland. It is the first 
effort that has been made to unite gentlemen of the different profes- 
sions and pursuits, in so extended an enterprise, involving the inter- 
ests, and contemplating the benefit of all the parties. The importance 
of such an Association, is apparent. Its value to the city of Balti- 
more and state of Maryland, must be considerable, and if it progress 
in its extensive operation, the great majority of our citizens must 
experience its benefits. And the measure is not less feasible than 
beneficial. Nothing appears, which is of impracticable character, to 
defeat its purpose. The only point that has any thing in it of the 
character of an experiment, is the union of the various parties in the 
common object. If that can be done — all can be done. "In union 
there is strength." This is an old adage, and one that has stood the 
test for ages. If the union can be effected in this, as in other great 
and important matters, there is nothing like experiment in the prop- 
osition. It is sure, undoubted success. And where is the citizen of 
Maryland, who would not lend his aid in the building up of an insti- 
tution combining so many interests, and likely to be so extensively 
useful ? Where is the citizen of Maryland, who would not yield his 
partialities for minor objects, and contribute of his means and ser- 
vices to the advancement of one so public-spirited in its nature and so 
universal in the distribution of its benefits ? Where is the profession 
or trade, that would not lay aside the peculiarities that a separate or- 
ganization would maintain, and unite in a more extended effort? — 
an effort, which, while it would sustain a great enterprise, has a view 
to the prosperity of all the fractions of which it is composed? — an ef- 
fort in which the peculiarities of the separate organization can be as 
well, perhaps better, supported than in its isolated situation ? The 
proposition appeals to the patriotism of the citizen. It commends 
itself to the associated interest of the profession and trade. It is truly 
American in its character — American in the principles, upon which it 
is based ; American in the manner in which it is to be sustained ; 
American in the distribution of its benefits for the general good. 

As certainly as the success of the Association may be determined 
from the required union of the parties alluded to, may the result of 
any sectional society be known from its isolated condition and limited 
resources. The effort of any single profession or party, to erect an 
institution of the sort, must depend mainly for its support upon that 



34 

profession or party alone. And the means of any sectional society, 
must be but a mere moiety of what a union of them all would pro- 
duce. Should success attend it to the utmost of its hopes, there is 
no one portion of the community that could erect such an institution 
as that contemplated by the Maryland Association. It is impossible 
that any less important organization can possess the same elements 
of prosperity, or equal facilities for useful labor. The operations of a 
less important organization must be limited, and so must its means 
and opportunities of being useful ; and its chances for the perpetuity 
of its existence, are not to be compared with those of the establish- 
ment that stands in the midst of the people, and appears before them 
as their own property — the instrument through which they receive 
pleasure and profitable instruction. 

Of such public character and ownership, is the institution proposed 
by the Maryland Association. Its proprietorship is to be in the peo- 
ple. It is to have nothing in it that may be called exclusive ; nor is 
it to be used for the promotion of any private or sectional purpose. 
Its constitution looks to the concentration of energy and power in 
the Association, only for the advancement of its prosperity, the ex- 
tension of its usefulness, and the diffusion of its benefits. In a meas- 
ure of such general importance, there should be no sectional inter- 
ests sought, no party feelings of any kind entertained. Whatever 
would provoke party jealousies, or any other feeling than that of a 
generous and patriotic rivalry to exceed in laudable effort, should be 
discountenanced. Our citizens of every profession should be called 
upon to unite in the enterprise. They should be encouraged to ope- 
rate as if animated by a single desire, and moved by a single impulse, 
in the one great purpose of doing honor to their city and state in the 
erection of an Institution, which may stand for ages to come, as a 
monument of their faithful devotion to the public weal. It is such 
an Institution that is most desirable at the present time. Whatever 
will be of advantage to the city and state, must secure advantages to the 
citizen, and to every profession and trade. The prosperity of the 
community, makes prosperity for all its departments, and for the indi- 
viduals of which they are composed ; and the labor is well expended 
that results in the accumulation of common blessings, and their trans- 
mission throughout the avenues of public intercourse. The labor 
that tells upon the public prosperity, is that, which patriotism is proud 
to bestow, and while the American citizen has pleasure in its per- 
formance, it does its part in the elevation of his character and in se- 
curing the permanency of his enjoyment. 

The annual subscription of each member of the Association is but 
THREE DOLLARS ; and TWENTT-FiVE DOLLARS paid at One time will 
constitute the person for whom it is paid, a member for life. The 
amount required of the annual subscriber, is small, but if the number 
of members be large, a considerable sum may by secured. The mem- 
bers of a similar institution in another city, amount to more than thirty 
thousand. Each member pays his three dollars, and the sum annu- 
ally received by the society, is upwards of ninety thousand dollars. 



35 

With that sum, how much may be accomplished by the Institution con- 
trolling it? What immense service must such Institution render to the 
trades and professions that have part in its prosperity ? The success 
of the Institution, alhided to — the Franklin Institute, of Philadel- 
phia, and the amount of service it has rendered to its support- 
ei^s, and the city, have had influence in determining the character 
of the Maryland Association. It is modelled after the Franklin In- 
stitute, but altered in some of its features to adapt it to the peculiari- 
ties of our position, and its attending circumstances. The success 
of our Association, depends upon similar exertions and causes with 
those that rendered so prosperous the movement in Philadelphia. 
That success is in the united efforts of our citizens of all parties and 
professions. It will be secured by the active labors of the parties, 
without regard to anyone of them in particular, but for the advantage, 
improvement, and prosperity of the whole. 



Gentlemen of the Association ! Allow me to say a few words of 
encouragement to you, in the pursuit of your noble purpose. Your 
cause is one that contemplates no selfish designs, and is not intend- 
ed for the accomplishment of sectional and selfish ends. It is the 
cause of your city — your state ; it is the cause of humanity. The 
Institution you would establish, is for public improvement — it is 
for the public good. It aims at the elevation of character, the multi- 
plication of the resources of human prosperity, and the increase of 
human happiness. The effort is worthy of your name of American 
citizens. It is flattering to your pride of patriotism. Be encouraged 
to persevere in your laudable design. Stop not short of success. You 
have undertaken a great work. It is a work that demands the appli- 
cation of your energies, both intellectual and physical. You must 
study out your plans, and apply your powers vigorously in their exe- 
cution. Discouragements will present themselves to your view — dif- 
ficulties will appear in your way. But stand not awed and fearful 
before those discouragements and difficulties. Put your energies to 
the trial, and with a mighty effort push your purpose on. Let the 
magnitude of your deed inspire you with zeal, and emulate the un- 
tiring industry, which knows no such thing as failure. Toil on until 
your labor is crowned with victorious results, and you shall look with 
honest pride and pleasure upon the fruits of your exertions, aud pos- 
terity shall praise and bless you for the deed. 



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